


this heart is big enough

by aliaaaaaa



Series: webgottrash tumblr prompts [55]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Carwood Lipton and Ron Speirs Intimate Bubble, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:44:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7180964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/pseuds/aliaaaaaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I love him plenty to acknowledge that his heart is big enough to fit us both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this heart is big enough

**Author's Note:**

> an anon requested for Luz/Lipton/Speirs end up being in a relationship together and this is my take.

It’s no secret that Carwood Lipton is the most nice and caring person that the men of Easy Co. have ever had the experience of knowing.

As a matter of fact, someone (Malarkey) has the cheek to call him _Carewood_ Lipton because once he cares about you, he really will do whatever it takes to make sure you are look after.

Maybe that’s why when the men of Easy Co. start hearing rumors about Lip bunking with Speirs in Hagenau – sharing a room at the end of the hallway, with a large enough bed to fit them and a soft mattress befitting their ranks for them to rest their wary bodies – they just shrug their shoulders and exchange knowing smile with one another because who else will be able to mellow out the legendary Sparky Speirs if not Carwood Lipton himself.

The rumor gets wild when Lip is sick – “pneumonia,” Doc Roe has said as Luz wraps the thick blanket around Lip broad shoulders; pressing a cup of hot coffee into his hands to stop them from shaking – Speirs gets agitated, he snaps at everyone – even Winters – if they come to Lipton with anything needs to be done.

The men discuss about it behind closed door, talk about it while they are playing cards, wishing they have something valuable to bet on instead of Krauts’ stuff.

The talk about Lip and Speirs dies out eventually when there are patrols to be done, rations to be categorized and distributed, men to be looked after.

War makes them forget about the mundane things, makes them focus on staying alive for another day every day.

But war also doesn’t make them forget all the things they have seen, all the things they have done, all the friends and comrades they have lost along the way.

War plagues their minds, invades their sleep, occupies their dreams.

Some men know how to keep it a secret, muffling their sobs in the crook of their arms, pressing half of their faces into the lumpy pillow.

Some men – like George Luz – scream their dreams out, tossing and thrashing on the small bunk, but no one has the energy to wake George up from his nightmare; they are too busy dealing with their own demons.

No one except for Carwood Lipton.

*

His dream always starts the same way.

He is jumping out from the airplane, his chute opening ceremoniously – he is grinning – shouting his wonderment that he made a perfect jump only to land in the cold, snowy Ardennes forest instead of Normandy.

The dream shifts.

Now he is crawling on the snowy ground, trying his hardest to make his way into Muck and Penkala’s foxhole; curses and prayers mingling inside his head as he pulls his suddenly heavy body forward.

_Just a bit more, just a bit more._

He could hear Muck and Penk shouting his name over the loud shelling, over the loud bursting barks.

_Fuck it, Luz. Move the fuck forward._

And then –

– Muck and Penkala vanish into thin air; his name echoing loudly even when their bodies are no longer there.

His dream always starts the same way – but somewhere in the middle of it – it turns into a memory that he rather not be thinking ever again.

His dream always starts the same way, only the ending is always different.

In this dream, Lip is not there to haul his ass into safety.

What he finds in the foxhole is a dead Lipton instead. His body mangled beyond recognition that he screams so loud until every noises surrounding him disappear.

In this dream, he feels sharp fingers like talons gripping his shoulders, shaking him hard.

In this dream, he hears voices without bodies screaming his name.

Luz! Luz! _George!_

When he blinks his eyes open, Lip’s face is only inches from him and he looks worried, his brown eyes dark, his forehead creasing.

“Lip?” George whispers, his chest feel so heavy, he cannot breathe.

“Breathe. You’re safe. I’m here.”

He closes his eyes and breathes, and when he opens his mouth to tell Lip that he is okay, that he is fine, that it’s just a bad dream; a harsh sob tumbles out from him instead of coherent words.

Lip pulls him closer, cradles his head on his broad chest. “It’s okay, Georgie. You’re okay, buddy. I got ya.”

It makes him sob harder, makes him press his cheek against Lip’s chest firmer; listening to the steady heartbeat, making sure Lip is real, making sure Lip is alive.

The other men in the room are now awake and they are watching Lipton trying to comfort Luz, how Lip has to crouch because the lower bunk is too small for his broad body.

“C’mon, you’re coming with me. Up you go.”

Luz follows Lip out from the too small room, avoiding Cobb’s eyes as they walk the short distance to the end of the hallway.

Inside the dimly lit room, Speirs is awake, half sitting on the bed looking rumpled and sleepy in his tattered white shirt and shorts.

He doesn’t say anything when he sees Luz coming into the room, looking disheveled and distraught.

Lip doesn’t offer an explanation to Speirs. He works silently, unfolding the spare blanket on the floor and spread it out neatly, throwing a lone pillow on it as Luz and Speirs watch.

“We’ll get you a bed tomorrow, George,” Lip promises as he watch Luz lies down on the blanket.

“I’ve slept on worst ground. This is like a four-star hotel for me, Lip,” Luz croaks, his voice breaking from the crying he has done.

“I just want you to be comfortable.”

Luz smiles softly at Lip, feeling his chest lightens in weeks. He tilts his head to look at Speirs.

“Sorry to barge into your cozy room, chief. I’ll make sure to get out of your hair first thing in the morning tomorrow,” Luz says, grinning slightly when Speirs rolls his eyes at him.

“Get some sleep so Lipton can stop being a mother hen and actually rest for once,” Speirs replies gruffly, patting the empty side of the bed as Luz shifts to find a comfortable position on the floor.

Lip switches off the light, crawls into the warm bed, into Speirs’ warm arms, letting Luz’s gentle murmur lulling him and like that, all three of them fall into a dreamless sleep.

*

George Luz never moves out from Lipton and Speirs’ room and it’s not because he doesn’t want to leave.

He does because it is awkward to wake up to Lip and Speirs whispering to one another in their bed when they think he is still asleep, kissing softly, touching tenderly. It feels too weird to be in the Intimate Bubble of Carwood Lipton and Ron Speirs but then Lip’s pneumonia comes back with vengeance, shaking his body like a leaf.

Speirs asks him to stay.

“He needs constant supervision so he doesn’t run off to make _everything_ right while his health is deteriorating.”

It’s an acceptable reason for Luz to stay for another night, keeping an eye on Lip while Speirs is out doing his job with Welsh, arranging patrol even when they don’t have anymore enemy left to fight, attending meeting with Winters and Nixon to make sure the men are safe while carrying out their jobs as soldiers.

But babysitting Lipton has proven to be difficult because the man is too goddamn stubborn as a mule. Always wanting to walk out from the room so he can attend the meeting too, citing, “I am responsible for their livelihood, George. How am I supposed to take care of them while I’m wasting away on the bed all day?”

Luz narrows his eyes, cocks his hip to the side and start lecturing. “Listen, Lip. I love you. You’re such a wonderful human being, so kind and perfect but lemme tell you, buddy. If the Chief finds out that you’ve been going around checking up on the men while you should be in bed, resting, he will have my balls in tight grip and it will not be the pleasurable kind of grip, ya hear me?”

It must be something that Luz has said or maybe it’s the way he is standing with his hip cocks out to the side because Lip is looking at him all soft eyes and kind smile that make his heart beats a bit too fast.

And Luz stays even when they have moved out from Haguenau, even when they are now entering Germany and the weather is nice that Luz considers it as paradise because everything is green grass and sunshine on his neck and fresh air in his lungs.

He still stay; sleep in Lip and Speirs’ bedroom, in a small cot placed near the sizable bed, easier for Lip to reach out his hand and card his fingers into Luz’s hair when he is having his nightmare again.

Luz stays even when sometimes, _all the time_ , he is being woken up by the bed creaking, by the soft breathy moans and the slaps of skin on skin.

He always shifts to face the wall, tries very hard to block out the noises; reciting the numbers in German just like what Liebgott has taught him. But fuck, it’s been too long since he jerks off, longer still since he screws some broad.

When his cock twitches at the sound of Lip moaning too passionately, he knows it’s time for him to leave.

*

Cobb is giving him a shit time when he arrives at the farmhouse, shouldering his bag as he makes his way to the room where the men are staying.

“What? Speirs kicks you out from the love nest?”

The others laugh because they think it’s funny that Luz is bunking with Lip and Speirs for the past months. They even have a running bet about whether or not Speirs is fucking him on the side.

“Hey, Luz. You can bunk in here with us,” Web says, looking at him with his bright blue eyes that remind him of heaven and Web, in Luz’s opinion, is a godsend because he doesn’t ask about what happen, about why Luz is suddenly here at the farmhouse rather than being at the grand hotel.

Web just continues reading his book, and Liebgott moves to give him space as Malarkey just offers him an already lit cigarette while Babe shuffles the cards to start a new game.

That night, Luz can’t sleep at all. He tosses and turns on his bed, trying to find a comfortable position to rest his tired body, but he still can’t sleep.

Everything doesn’t feel right.

Back when he was in Lip and Speirs’ room, Luz usually fell asleep with the sound of Speirs snoring piercing the quiet of the night. Here, it feels too quiet that it makes everything sounds so loud. He can hear Liebgott and Webster murmuring softly from the bunk next to him. He can hear Malarkey reciting his prayer. He can hear Babe slow sliding his leg against the mattress, a habit that he can’t quite shake off.

Luz forces himself to sleep, forces himself to stop thinking what Lip and Speirs are doing at this moment.

_Are they worried about him? Are they angry that he didn’t show up? Do they toss and turn in their bed because he’s not there?_

He falls asleep feeling his heart ache, his chest heavy.

The next day, Speirs hunts him down when he’s at the lake, sunning while he listens to Web teaching Liebgott how to fish.

“You didn’t come back to the room last night,” Speirs says as a way of greeting, his hands on his hips, his voice eerily calm which is not a good thing because now Web and Lieb are looking at them, anticipating for something to happen.

Nosy.

“Thought I made use of the promise of getting out of your hair,” Luz answers nonchalantly, ignoring the gnawing feeling that burns his chest.

Speirs sighs, his jaw ticking.

Web and Lieb get up from their spot to leave them alone. Fuckers.

Speirs sits down next to him, fumbles with his breast pocket for a pack of cigarette and lights one up. “Lip is worried about you. He didn’t get any sleep last night.”

What does he say to that honestly? Why does it matter so much for Lip to have him there when all he does is be in the way of the Intimate Bubble of Carwood Lipton and Ron Speirs.

“You sure he’s not getting any sleep because of me? Not because you guys were screwing?” He hates how whiny he sound like. He hates it even more when Speirs is looking at him, a look of understanding clouding his face.

“It doesn’t feel right when you’re not there,” Speirs offers, dragging his cigarette over his lips and inhales it greedily.

Luz throws a rock into the lake, watches it bounce on the surface a few times before it sinks.

“What the fuck are we doing? Am I that important to you and Lip? Fuck, I have never felt so confused as I am right now because seriously Chief, what the fuck is this even?” Luz asks in frustration, sighing deeply when the burning feeling in his chest intensifies.

He hates that he sounds so clingy and needy, that he is making himself transparent for the other man to see, but fuck, he has been asking these questions to himself for months now; feeling so confused about his relationship to Lip and Speirs but at the same time not wanting to quit it just yet because he likes it when he feels needed by Lip, he likes it when Speirs laughs at his jokes, he likes it when the two of them worried about him.

But at the same time, he hates it that he always feels like a third wheel especially when Lip and Speirs are having their tender moments and he doesn’t want to say that he is jealous because that will fuck everything up, but everything is fucked now because here he is feeling envious of what Lip and Speirs have because he wants to be part of Intimate Bubble of Lipton and Speirs too.

Speirs puts out the cigarette and looks at Luz, his eyes dark and dangerous, but Luz is looking at him back.

“Lip loves you. He cares about you a lot.”

Luz scoffs. “Lip cares about everyone.”

“Yeah, but you’re a special case. He cares about you a lot because you’re his first.”

Luz’s eyebrows shoot up at that, a universal gesture of “explain”.

“Hell, Luz. You’re basically the first guy that Lip fell in love with. Two peas in a pod. Two kind souls very much alike yet so different,” Speirs says casually, leaning back on his arms as he tilts his face up towards the sky.

Luz swears his heart don’t feel like jumping out from his throat.

“I thought Lip loves you,” Luz states, ignoring the pounding in his ears, the way his voice croak.

“He does, but he loves you too.”

“And you’re fine with it?” Luz asks, his voice raising slightly because what the fuck is happening? Were they in a threeway relationship without him even realizing it?

“I love Lip, he’s everything to me and I love him plenty to acknowledge that his heart is big enough to fit us both,” Speirs replies, eyes close as Luz looks at him.

Luz licks his lips, still confused about the whole thing yet at the same time, the burning feeling in his chest has dissipated. “How about you, Chief? You love me?” He asks cheekily, yet he wants to hear the answer.

Speirs grins at that question, cuffs Luz’s collar lightly and answers, “I’m not gonna be here looking for your ass to haul back to our room if I don’t care about you. Does that answer your question?”

Luz gulps down his emotion and replies with a teasing tone instead, “Not really, because I have so many questions like “Holy fuck! You care about me?”

Speirs knocks the back of Luz’s head lightly and in a tone so soft, that it bordering on fondness, he says, “Wiseass.”

*

When they get back into their room, Lip is waiting for them, looking distraught and worried and Luz mentally kicks himself for making Lip feel that way when all Lip should feel is happiness and kindness.

Luz is about to open his big mouth to apologize when Lip pulls him into a hug, fitting him nicely into Lip’s broad frame that he thinks he belongs there and when he feels Speirs hugging him from behind, he feels like he is at home.

Safe and sound.

“I’m so worried about you, George. Don’t ever leave us again,” Lip murmurs into the crown of his head and he tilts his face up to watch Lip’s face and he sees it, sees the love and the fond and the care lurking in Lip’s eyes as Lip looks back at him.

“Fuck, you really love me, Lip,” Luz breathes out.

“I told you,” Speirs quips from the back and he feels the vibration travels all over his body, settling his frayed nerves.

“I thought I told you we are going to discuss about this matter together, Ron,” Lip chides gently and Luz feels rather than sees Speirs rolling his eyes.

“Luz was being his impatient self and demanded me to explain to him because he said, and I quote, “Am I that important to you and Lip?” Speirs imitates Luz’s whiny voice.

“That was the worst impression of me ever. Don’t do that again in public please,” Luz drawls, feeling his face heating up as he burrows closer into Lip’s chest.

Lip cradles Luz’s face gently, thumbing the scar on the side of his face, a souvenir from Bastogne that feels like a lifetime ago because right now he is so warm from being held like this; so warm and so safe in this intimate bubble.

And then –

Lip leans down to kiss him gently on the lips, a chaste kiss, tender and soft that Luz can’t help but sigh softly, his body going pliant as Speirs wraps his arms around his chest to steady him.

He still has so many questions to ask to Lip and he knows that they should be discussing about this matter like adult because he is still feeling confused about the whole thing but he is feeling floaty, his heart is expanding and his soul is singing and through the hazy feeling, with Lip’s mouth brushing against his, with Speirs’ embracing him tighter, he hears Speirs murmurs, “Welcome home.”

He thinks that’s enough of an answer for now.

**Author's Note:**

> first posted on [webgottrash](http://webgottrash.tumblr.com/post/145818024132/i-am-a-huge-fan-of-your-work-i-really-love-your)


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